Date: Sun, 5 Jan 2014 15:17:01 -0800 (PST)
From: Ben Ezra Jacobson
Subject: Jacob
Dear Nifty...I would like to submit a new story called JACOB for the Nifty
readers to enjoy. It centers around my sophomore year in college and a new
friend. Once you have posted it...would you please add it to my list of
stories under Authors.
Thanks, BEJ
Dear Nifty Readers...please consider a donation to Nifty to keep the
Archive operating. It will be a worthy investment to supply exciting
stories from a host of talented authors. Thanks.
JACOB
by
Ben Ezra Jacobson
Jacob was such a handsome young man. He had black hair, cut long but
still above the ears and off the neck...kind of shaggy like but neat. He
had black eye lashes and eye brows, crystal blue eyes and flawless skin
except for a tiny scar on his chin where he took a fall from a bicycle when
he was about twelve. He was twenty years old when I met him. We were both
sophomores in college. He was a physical education major and although I
was an English major...we had an English class, a history class and a
physical education class together. We became good friends...an academian
and an athlete. I was never athletic...but he coached me in volley ball
and I helped him with English...which he said was really killing him.
When I learned that I had to have six quarters of physical education,
I thought that I would get six "F's"...but Jacob helped with pointer during
the first quarter and then suggested that I take bad mitten, archery, golf
and two dance classes to meet my requirements. It was the best advice I
ever got.
In the English class we shared...we read the Oedipus Rex stories. I
helped him write papers on class assignments. He would scratch his head
and say, "Why the hell anyone would want to study this shit is beyond me."
I helped him with his outlines and encouraged him to put the papers into
his own words. Even that was terribly frustrating for him.
Jacob was an only child, reared by his mother who was accountant and
his father who was a very liberal clergyman. One day in class, the
instructor, speaking of people having Oedipus complexes...ventured into a
class discussion about our opinions of "free love" and gay life styles. At
first, no one wanted to speak of it for fear of being labeled. Jacob held
up his hand to speak.
"Go ahead, Mr. Oliver," the instructor said.
"My dad is a clergyman...and when he counsels his parishioners...he
tells them that they have to listen to their hearts. He has always told me
not to judge the people around me...but to leave it to deity. So when I
was growing up...I had friends who were Christian and some who were not,
some who were heterosexual and some who were gay, and others of all
nationalities. But when it comes to Oedipus Rex...I have some very strong
feelings about his behavior. His struggles were thought provoking...but I
can not imagine his behavior being encouraged in this modern day.
"Anyone else want to rebut what Mr. Oliver has offered us," the
instructor asked?
Not a single hand went up. After class, in the hallway...many of the
students came over to him and patted his shoulder and congratulated him on
his comments.
"Good job Jacob...well said," came the comments as he walked down the
hallway towards his next class.
I didn't get a chance to speak to him after class but when we met up
again during history class...I told him that I admired his neutral
demeanor.
"Hey Ben...life is too short to get caught up in hate and persecution.
We are who we are and have been since birth. As we grow up...we improve if
we choose...or we don't if we choose," he replied.
He had such an incredible smile...and perfect teeth. Some people
have all the luck. I smiled back.
"I admire your good sense, Jacob. Your parents have done alright by
you."
"Well, I learned early on that my dad told the truth. I built on the
knowledge he has shared with me. We miss some great experiences when we
let narrow mindedness restrict us."
"I agree with you...but tell me...how has your open mindedness
enlightened you," I asked?
He looked at me...and studied my face for a minute. "There is one
experience that I could tell you about...but I would want your discretion
in not sharing it with others," he asked.
"I understand," I said. "I give you my word that I will not repeat it
without your permission."
"One summer when I was twelve, I went to a church summer camp in
southern Illinois. The director was one of my father's classmates from
their seminary. While there, I met the Pastor's eighteen year old son,
Will. We spent a lot of time with the church summer programs. One week
end, he asked me to go camping along the river with him. He had his dad's
canoe. We paddled down the river and then back. When we got back, it was
dark...so we pitched the tent under the bridge that crossed the river. He
asked me if I would like to go into the water for a swim. Sure why not, I
thought. He took off all of his clothes and ran into the the water. We
walked up and down the sandy beach naked in the night. I had sand all over
me. We went for one last swim before going into the tent. Inside the
tent...he began to touch me. This was a new experience for me. Then he
kissed me...and it felt good. I kissed him back.
Well one thing led to another and I ended having my first homosexual
experience. According to religious and societal mores, I should have found
my experience shameful and sinful...but I didn't. I enjoyed the night with
Will and hoped to get to camp with him again. I told my dad when I got
home what we had done. He asked me how I felt about it. When I said that
I liked it and felt no shame...he said that we all have to decide for
ourselves what we will and will not do. He reminded me in the scriptures
that the Lady caught in adultery was not condemned by the master. Since
then, I have tried very hard to not condemn those around me for what they
do or do not believe. That's it Ben...in a nut shell," he said.
I looked into his blue eyes and saw his big smile...and knew that
Jacob was definitely a young man that I wanted to know better.
. . . . . . . . .
A few days later after history class, Jacob asked me if I was
going out to eat anywhere or had I brought a sandwich from home. I
indicated that I had planned on going out for lunch.
"Could I go with you," he asked?
"Sure, that would be fantastic," I responded. "What sounds good to
eat?"
"Anything," he answered back, "what did you have in mind?"
"Well, I was thinking about some fish from the Long John Silvers
place."
"Gosh Ben...that does sound good. I haven't had fish since Fridays
were demoted," he laughed.
"So you observe Catholic traditions as well," I asked.
"Not really, just thought I would have some fun with you. Fish sounds
great to me."
We ordered the sea food platter with a diet coke. It smelled
wonderful. At the table, we talked about term papers while we ate.
"Have you started your paper yet," I asked?
"I've tried several times...but damn it Ben, I just don't get this
Oedipus crap. It might as well be in Greek," he stammered.
I looked into his serious face and burst out laughing.
"What," he demanded?
"Jacob...have you been focusing on the story at all. It is Greek."
"Huh?"
"The story is Greek. Haven't you read any of it," I asked.
"I told you that English was my worst subject in high school," he
answered back to me. "I really need you to help me."
I smiled. Yeah, I guess I could do that. You saved me in Volley ball
class. When is a good time for you.., for us to get together and work on
it," I asked..?
"It's due next Tuesday. How about if you go home with me for the week
end. We could work on it then," he asked?
" I have a better idea...why don't you just stay here and go home with
me. That would cut out the travel time...and my folks are going to be gone
over the week end...so there wouldn't be the noise or interruptions," I
suggested.
"Your folks would not object to you bringing a stray dog home to spend
the week end," he asked.
"Not as long as you don't chew on the furniture," I responded. We
both laughed. "Get your things together...and don't forget your text book
and notes. If you tell me what you want to say...I'll type it for you on
the computer as long as it is in your words and not mine."
The afternoon seemed to drag. Having P.E. class helped to distract my
thoughts from the end of the day. It would be nice to have someone at home
to talk with while my dad and mom attended a seminar in St. Louis. I
wanted to help Jacob with his paper...but the instructor would recognize my
style of writing because he had complimented me on it several times before.
Jacob's paper was going to have to sound unique to him. He was already
frustrated with his own efforts. It would be interesting to see if he
could pull something logical out of his memory banks... that would not look
like it was plagiarized.
. . . . . . .
I picked Jacob up at his dorm room after school. It took about twenty
minutes to drive home. After putting my car in the garage, I helped him
carry his back pack and book bag into the house. He didn't know that my
father was a professor at the university that we both attended. When he
entered the house and noticed all the books and university
paraphernalia...he asked if my dad was Dr. Jacobson from the English
Department.
"One in the same," I responded.
"Damn Ben...no wonder you are an academic genius," He said.
I laughed. I am a fairly descent student...but far from a genius. My
parents had always invested a great deal of their time in helping me
understand the classes I had taken and tutored me in a lot of them if I
struggled. I have learned that it is amazing what one can do with
determination and some good guidance.
Jacob walked over to the piano and looked it over.
"Ben, do you play," he asked?
"Only a little, and very poorly," I replied. "My sister Barbara is
the musician in our family."
"Is she a student," he asked?
"No...she graduated already. She and her husband live in the east," I
replied.
"May I play it," he asked?
"Sure...go ahead," I answered back.
He sat down to the piano, put his fingers on the keys and played like
one who had studied all his life. The piece was familiar...but I could not
place it.
"Jacob...I know that piece of music you are playing...but can't recall
the name."
"It's a church hymn that we sing a lot at my dad's church. It's
called "Be Still My soul." It was written by a composer named Jean
Sibelius from a score that he wrote called FINLANDIA."
"Wow...it's beautiful," I responded.
"Bet you never guessed that a Phys. Ed. hick like me, would know
anything about classical music...did you," he said...with a sheepish grin
on his face.
"From what you have shared with me thus far...I would say that you are
an unusually complex and interesting person. I'd like to know you better,"
I stated.
He stopped playing and smiled at me. "I'd like to get to know you
better too, Ben. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate your help
with that Greek Dude, Edison Rex." He laughed.
"Oedipus Rex...and you are entirely welcome," I replied.
We took some frozen lasagna out of the freezer and made a quick green
salad for supper. I also found a frozen mince meat pie and some vanilla
ice cream near the bottom the chest freezer. We put the lasagna and the
pie into bake and turned on the television. While the news droned on in
the back ground...we checked over Jacobs notes and found them to be sadly
lacking.
"Let's take a different approach to doing a paper for you. I showed
him my outline for the paper that I had started to write. I suggested
using it for a pattern. We altered it to fit the data he had recalled. By
the time supper was done baking...we had come up with a respectable
outline, that was believable.
"Now after we eat..with the new outline we have created...you dictate
to me what you want to say...and I will type it into the computer. The
computer will do the spell check and punctuation corrections. OK," I
suggested?
I had let Jacob look over my notes and then we read his notes. His
were a bit haphazard...but we labored through it...and then discussed the
lay of the story.
"Now, in your own words, following your outline...tell me what you
want to say about Oedipus Rex," I commanded. It was amazing how well he
started off. When he run into an obstacle...I stopped typing and we
discussed it. Two hours later we had a rough draft.
"Now then, Jacob," I said. "We are not going to make too many
corrections. You will turn it in as a rough draft and Dr. Wilson will see
that you are under way. When he makes a few comments on your paper...we
will polish it and turn in the final copy. What do you think," I asked?
"Damn Ben...you're a genius. You've made me look like I understand
the story and have some working knowledge of the piece," he threw back at
me.
"It will probably come back with suggestions and comments. Don't let
it throw you. We want him to comment...even criticize it. That will give
us fodder for a final addition with his suggestions, which will make it
look like you really get what he is telling us in class. It's called
`kissing ass" in modern day language."
"Man Ben...you really know how to speak Greek," he laughed.
"Well, kind of...I have lived my whole life with a English professor
for a father. I've learned a lot of the tricks of the trade, my friend," I
said.
I hit the print key on my computer...and the term paper came rolling
out. We put it into a hard manila folder and Jacob put it into his
notebook with in his book bag so he would not misplace it.
While he put his things away...I put the dirty dishes into the
dishwasher, added the soap, and punched the "run" button. Back in the
living room, I put a couple more logs into the fire place. We were burning
hickory wood...and the room smelled nice. I lit a couple of candles and
turned out the lights. We sat on the sofa and gazed into the fire.
"I love a fire in the fireplace in the autumn and in winter," I told
him.
"So do I," said Jacob. We have a fireplace at home. I like a
campfire too, even if I do go home smelling like smoke."
My parents have a summer house near Boulder Junction, Wisconsin," I
told him. We go up there for the summer a lot. I have a log cabin that
was built my the grandfather of a local author in that area. When he and
his family decided that it was time to sell the woods... dad bought it. I
have taken a couple of friends up there with us to canoe and fish. We
camped in the cabin while my folks stayed at the summer house."
"A real cabin...that would be so cool," Jacob said. "Is the fishing
good up there?"
"Yeah, we caught wall eye and Muskie...but they are pretty good size
and can really give the fisherman a tussle for his money."
"What's the canoeing like?"
"Man Jacob...it's the best. You can go from one lake to the next by
shallow water chains. My first trip up there...we paddled across Boulder
lake and was going to go to upper Fishtrap lake...but we missed the turn
and went to Nixon lake instead. We camped on an island...and in the
night...we heard this growling sound. Neither of us would go outside and
check what it was. It might have been a bear...who knows...but the next
morning all of our food had been ransacked...and we had to paddle to a near
by lake that had a convenience store and buy more food."
Jacob got up and stretched, then lay down on the floor in front of the
fireplace.
"That would be so damn cool," he said.
"You know, for a preacher's kid, you sure curse a lot," I laughed.
"Yeah...I'm sorry about that. It's just that I get caught up in the
spirit of the moment...and sometimes talk like the coaches do," he said.
"You know for a future coach, you look more like a movie star. Your
too good looking to be a coach," I jested.
"Yeah, I know...I have often wished that I had been built more rugged
and less handsome," he suggested.
"And more modest, I would suggest," teasing him.
"Who better to be arrogant and conceited than a moralist preacher's
kid," he laughed.
I laughed at him. Jacob was so much fun to banter with. He was all
smiles... but with in, he was a good person...a really good person.
"The fire is nice down here, Ben," he said.
I got up from the sofa and sat next to him on the floor. He reclined,
grabbing a sofa cushion to put under his head.
"Ben," he said.
"Yeah," I answered back.
"Remember me telling you about my camping under the bridge with my
friend Will?"
"Yes, I remember," I answered him.
"Well, would you tell me about some of your adventures," he asked?
I looked into his handsome face, "How do you know I have any
adventures to tell about?"
"You must, because you didn't seem shocked when I discussed mine.
Most guys would have gone off, if someone told them that they were gay."
"You didn't tell me that you were gay...only that you had had an
adventure when you were twelve years old," I responded. "Besides, I am as
non-judgmental as you are...in case you hadn't noticed.
"Come on Ben...my gay-dar is beeping like crazy. I know you have had
some adventures...and I would like to hear about them," he said. "OK, So
tell me that I am wrong and I will apologize."
I took a deep breath and stared into the fire. After a few seconds, I
turned back towards him and said, "You're not wrong Jacob. I am gay."
"I knew you were Ben...and I am glad. I have really enjoyed hanging
out with you from the first day in class. I'd like to see us move on to
the next level."
"So would I," I said.
He reached over and touched the side of my face with his hand.
Sitting up, he reached over and hugged me...and held me close to him. He
was warm and his touch was comforting. I turned my head to face
him...looking into the bluest eyes I have ever seen. He touched my lips
with his finger. When I moaned, he pulled his finger away and kissed me.
I kissed him back. His lips were soft and nice. He kissed me again and
smiled. I smiled back.
"Ben...you don't know how long I have wanted to do that," he said.
"Yeah? It's really cool."
I leaned in and kissed him back. He lay back on the floor in front
of the fire place and I turned on my hands and knees and straddled over him
and then lay down on top of him. Chest to chest and cock to cock. He was
hard as a rock...and I was getting there fast. The pressure of my penis
laying on top of his...was really electrical. We kissed each other
again...there in the dark with only fireplace light to see by. I climbed
off of him. He sat up and I helped him pull his shirt over his head. In
turn, I unbuttoned mine and removed it.
His nipples were hard like little b-b's and he said it felt good when
I squeezed them. When he tried to do the same to me, I flinched. Too
sensitive... so I suggested that he lightly run his palm over them. His
touch was gentle and it felt good. He pushed me back onto the floor and
gently unbuckled my belt, then unbuttoned my jeans, spreading the fly wide
open as far as it would go, he put his hands into my waist band and pulled
them down to my ankles and then off. I was wearing white briefs. He ran
his hand over my bulge. My dick was as hard as it could be.
"Raise your butt off of the floor Ben," he said.
He grabbed my briefs and pulled them down and then off my body.
"Man, Ben...your beautiful," he said as he reached out and touched my
penis.
He ran the palm of his hand along the underside and around my balls
then back up and placed his fingers around my shaft and squeezed. A charge
of electricity went through my groin and my cock stood straight up. He ran
his fingers through my pubic hair. I had just trimmed it to a half inch
length the other day. Moving down, he rubbed my thighs, then the insides.
He rolled me over onto my side and rubbed his hands over my gluts.
"For a guy who claims to be non athletic, you sure have a nice firm
body."
I pulled away and pushed him back against the carpet and started
removing his jeans and boxers. He had a lot of room to talk about my
measurements...he was huge...with straight black pubic hair and an uncut
cock that was at full mast.
"How long are you, Jacob," I asked?
"A little over nine inches," he said.
" I got up and went over to the desk and pulled out a ruler. Setting
it at the base of his penis, perpendicular to his groin...I measured ten
and a quarter inches. It had to be the biggest proboscis that I had ever
seen or felt. It was amazing that for his 5 foot 10 inch frame, he was
sporting a cock that size. Furthermore, how did he keep it all pulled
tight in his boxers with out it showing an outline through his jeans or it
hanging down his pant leg?
"How do you keep that monster hidden so that it does not show through
your jeans," I asked.
" I wear tightly woven jock straps instead of underwear most of the
time, he said. I wanted you to see and feel it...so I left the support at
home."
"Well buddy, I have to tell you that it is the biggest cock I have
ever seen," I shot back at him.
"So you like it," he asked?
"Yes," I said, " without equivocation."
"Huh," he replied.
"Yes, Jacob...it is the nicest cock I have ever seen," I restated.
"Oh...OK," he replied.
While he was lying on his back on the floor, I stretched out between
his legs and ran my tongue along the bottom of his dick. He leaned his
head back and moaned. He was enjoying the contact. Then I put my mouth
over the head of his dick. He moaned louder. It was hard to go down very
far on his shaft because of the thickness and the length. He was enjoying
the pressure and moaned again. I was able to go about half way down. He
tasted great. I ran my tongue over his head and then down the shaft again
and then around his balls.
"Oh," he whispered... "I love having my balls played with."
I took his dick in my right hand and rubbed his balls in my left hand.
It was obvious that he had a hair trigger because without any warning, he
erupted, shooting semen into the air...quite a bit of semen. He made a big
mess on his stomach...but from the way he was hollering...it was easy to
tell that he was having a very good time.
I ran and grabbed a hand towel and started cleaning off his chest.
"Ok, Ben, now it is your turn."
He lay down between my legs and went down on my shaft. His saliva was
thick and slick. In just a few minutes, I shot my load into the back of
his throat. I was surprised when he swallowed the load.
Our whole sexual adventure had lasted less than a half hour.
"Should we get dressed," he asked?
"No," I said, "let's just watch some more television for awhile and
then do it again." I laughed.
"That sounds good to me," he responded.
"How many times can you get off in one night," I asked him.
"As many as you want, Ben. As many as you want."
. . . . . . . . .
We watched television for about an hour before turning it off. The
embers in the fire place were going out as the house began to cool down.
We closed the glass doors to keep anything from popping out on the floor.
This cut off the air supply and the coals went from red to black very
quickly. Picking up our clothing, we walked up the stairs, naked, to my
bed room.
"Want to take a shower before we turn in, Jacob," I asked.
"That would be great," he responded.
I laid out towels and wash cloths. He turned on the water to draw the
hot upstairs. As it warmed up, he adjusted the temperature to his liking
and got in. I stepped into the shower behind him and helped him lather up
his hair. It felt great with the shampoo gently running through the
strands of his hair and between my fingers.
"You have great hair," I stated.
"Your hands running through it feels great. I'll give you an hour to
quit," he replied back to me.
"I'd take it but the hot water won't last that long." We both
laughed. I grabbed the bar soap and began to wash his back. He stood
still and let me do it. It was great touching him. After a few minutes,
he took the bar of soap from my hands and began to run it over my body as
well, using his hands in place of a wash cloth. His hands on my chest felt
warm and soothing. He lathered up my pubic hair and then my hardware. I
got hard as he stroked my cock with the soap. He rubbed his hands over the
bar of soap again and massaged my balls and then pushing through to lather
the perineum. Reaching behind me, he slid the bar of soap in the crack of
my ass and massaged my sphincter. It was extremely erotic. I leaned
towards the glass side of the shower so he had more exposure to my ass.
"Like that Ben," he asked?
"Sure do...that is my G spot for sure...that and my prostate," I
returned.
Adding a bit more soap to the orifice, he slid his finger through both
sphincters and slowly eased onto my prostate gland. I stood there with my
legs spread and leaning forward against the glass. He tapped it a couple
of times and then made systematic strokes from the outside of the gland to
the center and then did the same on the other side. I felt like I was
going to drop another load right there. He pulled his finger to the
outside, rubbed the soap and insert two fingers. When he could insert them
up to the third knuckle, he began to spread them opening my orifice wider
and wider. He proceeded very slowly so the discomfort I felt at first had
completely quit hurting. He pulled out again, rubbed the bar of soap and
inserted three fingers. He was stretching me. Each time he ran his
fingers over the prostate...again I felt like I could cum. The water was
starting to cool down. He reached over and shut it off.
"Keep bending towards the glass Ben, now take a deep breath and hold
it."
As I did so, I felt him push his penis through the first sphincter.
When I did not protest...he pushed in another inch past the second
sphincter. It was a little tight...but not really discomforting. Slowly
he pushed deeper and deeper. Although the air in the shower was getting
cool...my body was hot. The movements of a ten inch dick deep into my
canal had me panting. I felt like I was on fire...heat of passion but no
pain. He pulled back and pushed in again. It felt like the whole ten
inches was rubbing against my prostate gland. I was leaking pre-cum
profusely. He made a dozen more thrusts. I felt my own cock swelling and
getting really tight. As he continued to thrust into me, he reached around
with the bar of soap and lathered up my dick. Each time he pushed forward
inside of me, he pulled back on my cock. I was going to cum and do it
pretty quickly. My lower body began to shake...like a muscle
spasm...but the kind that doesn't hurt. It was building.
"I'm going to cum, Jacob, I'm going to cum," I shouted as the
electrical feeling passed through my groin, traveled all around my balls,
up my dick and culminated with a huge ejaculation. Just as I shot the
first load..I felt him press me against the glass.
"Me too, Ben...here...it...comes," he screamed as he thrust hard five
or six
mashing me against the glass. He suddenly pulled out because of
excruciating sensitivity.
"Man, there is such a fine line between extreme pleasure and painful
sensitivity," he stated. "I wish I could have humped you like that for
another ten or fifteen minutes. It was great."
"I don't think I could have taken much more with that big honkin dick
up my butt," I said. "Jacob...I have always enjoyed anal sex...but I've
never had a ten incher up there before and especially not one that was as
thick as yours. How many times have you plowed other guys to the point of
getting off inside them?"
"None, Ben...you are the first who would ever let me try. Man was it
good."
I checked to see if I was bleeding. It was a relief to see that there
were no tears in the interior corridor. We turned the hot water back
on...and to our surprise...there was just enough to wash the soap and semen
off before it went completely cold.
We toweled off, and climbed into my bed. He extended his right arm
and I laid my head on it and then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled
me close to him. His soft cock was laying in my crack. He was producing a
lot of body heat. It was unlikely that we would get cold tonight. I
remember thinking about this anal experience...when I went to sleep.
. . . . . . .
Saturday morning arrived with clear skies and a beautiful sunrise. We
had slept in. It was nearly 9:00 AM when I finally woke up. Jacob was
laying next to me intently staring at my face. He had such a beautiful
face. He could have been a model as attractive as he was. His voice was
calm and soothing. Had I just met him and did not know he was gay, I would
never have guessed him to be anything but the average handsome straight guy
who would charm women right and left while he coached some future team to
victory. I wondered how his life would be as a gay coach. Would a school
system hire him knowing that he preferred the company of hung men to
beautiful women. I wondered what lay in store. Would he be persecuted for
being gay or perhaps even have his life threatened. A professor could hide
his sexuality...but a coach in a shower room with naked boys and men around
him...seemed like a time bomb waiting to explode.